


The Clean Up Incident

by jupiter23



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: F/M, smutty make outs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 00:13:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5687092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jupiter23/pseuds/jupiter23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sparring session that gets particularly messy leaves Bog and Marianne needing to wash off before Griselda lets them back in the castle, so Bog leads Marianne to a secluded spot in the Dark Forest for a bath. The only catch? He's never seen her naked before. Everyone can be adults about this, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Clean Up Incident

Marianne narrowed her eyes as she held the wooden stick currently serving as her sword at the ready. She stared down Bog, looking for an opening. He, of course, wasn’t presenting her with one. His own stick that had taken the place of his staff for their regular sparring session/practice was poised in front of him, ready to block any attack. At least a frontal attack. Marianne supposed she could try to get around him to make an attack from the rear, but she would have to be unbelievably fast. He was really good about keeping her in his line of sight. She supposed that she could have made the attack from the air, and might have even gained the upper hand that way, but with her wings bound behind her, she had no choice but to stay on the ground.

The decision to tie her wings up hadn’t been hers, either. Surprisingly, it had been Dawn that suggested it. And then Bog had adamantly agreed, saying that Marianne could use some practice with her footwork, anyway. What if something happened in a real fight, and she couldn’t fly away? he had argued. Marianne had protested until Dawn had said that Bog should also tie his wings down, just to make it fair. And then Bog protested, until Marianne agreed to do it only if Bog would. After all, something could happen to him as well, and then what would he do? Bog was unable to argue with this, and reluctantly agreed to it.

So now here they were on the freshly-muddied ground, mud caked on their legs almost up to their knees and trying to concentrate on not slipping and falling as much as they were trying to concentrate on one another. And there Dawn was on the sidelines with Griselda and several other Goblins who had wandered out to watch them, eyes darting between the two of them and arguing quietly with their other spectators as to who was going to win. Marianne had to keep reminding herself to ignore them. This was hard enough without the added distraction.

Bog, for his part, seemed to be doing a much better job at concentrating on their fight. But then again he looked just as irritated at not being able to use his wings as she felt. She had just started to wonder if she could use that when he decided to solve her problem of looking for an opening by lunging at her with a downward swing, forcing her to block it and dodge the other way. Marianne was proud of herself for managing to not slip this time, and she also had her opening. She didn’t bother stopping the smile from pulling at her lips as she swung at Bog, forcing him to block her sudden barrage of swings and thrusts.

Had Marianne been paying closer attention, however, she would have noticed the glint of amusement in Bog’s eyes the second he broke their stalemate. She would have also noticed that Bog was leading them further into the mud as he dodged her attacks. And finally, she would have noticed what Bog had noticed. It only occurred to her that he was up to something when a grin started spreading over his own face as their weapons connected one more time. Before she could question it, he threw off her stick, twisted, ducked, and the next thing Marianne knew his stick was catching the side of her calf and her feet went out from under her. The air was knocked from her lungs as she landed flat on her back, her stick bouncing out of her hand and rolling out of reach. She hadn’t even fully recovered before Bog was standing over her, swinging his stick down. He checked his swing at the last second, and the end of his stick landed in a light tap in the center of her chest. Marianne let out an irritated groan and slumped back.

“You only have yourself to blame, Tough Girl. I told you to watch your feet,” Bog pointed out, shifting his stick to his right hand and holding out the left to help her up.

Marianne only glared up at him and propped up on her elbows. She hadn’t missed where his legs were positioned to either side of hers while he was still standing over her.

“You know what, Bog?”

“What?”

“You should really learn to take your own advice.” Bog only had a split second to stare at her in confusion before she brought her right foot up and across to the inside of his right knee. Bog overbalanced while trying to avoid her kick and went down hard on his side, his own stick flying out of his grip.

Marianne managed to sit up and noticed that their audience had started making their way towards the two of them. She knew Bog had air back in his lungs when he began cursing violently. He was struggling to sit up himself when she turned towards him and held a hand out to assist him. She realized too late, though, that she should have predicted that Bog wouldn’t just dismiss her kicking his legs out from under him like that, and especially when he couldn’t fly.

As it happened, she didn’t realize it until Bog had taken her hand and jerked her to his chest and then rolled the two of them until she was on her back again and under him this time, smirking down at her once he had made the move. When she tried to smack him in retaliation, he only grabbed both of her wrists, kissed her knuckles, and then pinned her arms over her head. She let out another irritated groan.

“Well, we came to help you, but if you’re going to make out, then we’re leaving,” Dawn said from above them. Bog and Marianne both looked up at her, and sure enough, there she was hovering above them both. Everyone else was still picking their way across the mud towards them. Two of the Goblins had broken off to go and retrieve the sticks Bog and Marianne had been using.

“Also, Bog, what have I told you about using that kind of language?” Griselda piped up. She had almost reached them. Bog only rolled his eyes in response, but made no move to let Marianne up. Marianne glanced down while Bog was distracted and then up at Griselda.

“I’ll take responsibility for that one. That was kind of an underhanded move on my part,” Marianne told her.

Bog looked down at her. “Thank you! At least—“ He cut off with a surprised yelp when Marianne hooked both legs around his thighs, pulled him towards her, and used the momentum to flip them both over onto his back. Then she sat up, straddling his waist and folding her arms over her chest and shooting him a smug smile. He stared up at her in surprise for a few more seconds before he huffed out a laugh.

“Seriously, if you two are going to do that, can you find a room or something?” Dawn said from Marianne’s side as she helped her sister to her feet before her and Bog’s wrestling could continue. Then she began working at the vines binding Marianne’s wings down while Marianne reached down to finally help Bog up.

“It better be an ‘or something,’ because you two aren’t going inside covered in mud like that,” Griselda said as Marianne’s wings were finally freed and she gave them a grateful stretch.

Bog paused in the middle of slicing his own vines off with his claws and glanced at her. “Mom—“ he started to protest, but Griselda cut him off by planting her fists on her hips and shooting Bog the look that only mothers seemed capable of giving when they weren’t interested in an argument. Naturally, it worked, because Bog could only heave out a resigned sigh, roll his eyes, and finish freeing his wings.

Just then another Goblin arrived with Bog’s staff and Marianne’s sword in hand. They each took their respective weapons, and Marianne was actually about to launch into an argument about how they couldn’t possibly clean up if they couldn’t go inside when Bog seemed to have read her mind, because he took her hand and said, “Trust me, you don’t want to get into that. Just follow me.”

Marianne decided not to push the issue and the two of them took off away from the castle, Dawn’s cheery “Have fun!” following them.

 

Twenty minutes later, they were still flying deeper into the Dark Forest. Marianne trusted that Bog knew where he was taking them, but he hadn’t given any indication that they were close to their destination yet. They had chatted on the way about their spar (according to Bog, she actually did really well, she could just use more practice, and Marianne had groaned, because it meant they’d be sparring with their wings tied more often, and that had been hard enough. But Bog had only maintained that it was a good idea in case something happened and she couldn’t use her wings, and she was still forced to agree with him) and then lapsed into a companionable silence.

That had been about five minutes ago. Now, there was a sharp ache radiating down her back with every flap of her wings and she was going to need to stop for a break soon. She must have fallen harder than she thought if she was hurting after this much flying. Some sign of the pain must have been showing on her face, because when Bog looked over at her, he said, “We’re almost there, don’t worry.”

“Where exactly are we going?” Marianne asked.

“To a place I found a few years ago. No one will bother us there,” he answered.

Marianne’s lips quirked up in a sly smile. “Answering Dawn’s request that we ‘get a room or something’? You know, if you wanted to make out, all you had to do was say so.”

“Well, I thought you wanted a bath first, but if you insist,” Bog said, darting over to her and grabbing her out of mid-air and immediately nuzzling her neck. Marianne shrieked with laughter and tried to push him away.

“AAUUGGHH!! Okay, okay! Bath first!” Marianne managed to get out through her laughter. Bog chuckled and let her go, and a minute later they arrived at their destination. It was a stream that Marianne hadn’t seen before and looked rather deep. Bog led her around a tree where part of the stream branched off to a much shallower and slower flow of water and they both landed at the tree’s roots. Marianne was in the middle of trying to guess how deep it was when it finally occurred to her what they had both said. The thought made her freeze in her tracks.

 “What’s wrong?” Bog asked her, confused about why she stopped.

“I—I just—you’ve never— _we’ve_ never—“ Marianne stuttered out. She could feel her cheeks flushing.

Bog still watched her in confusion for a few seconds before comprehension dawned. She knew it did when his own cheeks turned red and his eyes widened. They had made out plenty of times, and there had even been some rather intimate touching involved, and they even shared Bog’s bed whenever Marianne visited the Dark Forest, but then it was strictly for sleeping. Marianne had never been naked in front of him before, much less had they ever gone _that_ far. And Bog was well aware of all the reasons why Fairies and Elves wore clothes.

“Ah,” his voice came out a bit higher than normal. “Well…umm…we—we can go back, then…if you want…”

Marianne glanced back in the direction of Bog’s castle. Granted the mud had pretty much dried up on their flight over, but it was still all over the both of them. Griselda very likely wouldn’t let them inside the castle still looking like they did, and Marianne wasn’t willing to wait on another rain shower to help her solve the problem. She guessed that Bog wasn’t, either. She gave a resigned sigh and turned back to Bog, her face burning even hotter if it were possible.

“I guess we’d better not,” she mumbled, looking anywhere but at Bog.

“Right, so, uh…” he stopped and cleared his throat. She could hear his claws tapping on his staff. “So—so do you want to go first?”

“I’d—I’d better not…Gotta get out of these first,” she said, motioning to her clothing.

“Right! Then I’ll, um…I’ll turn my back,” he suggested. Marianne finally met his eyes again. That actually brought her some measure of relief.

“Good idea!” she chirped, and Bog visibly relaxed. Then, without saying anything else and before he could change his mind, he turned and leaned his staff against one of the tree’s roots and waded into the water.

Marianne watched him go. He wasn’t far from the shore, but he was up to his waist where he was standing. And he resolutely kept his back to her as he bent over enough to start scrubbing water over his face.

Marianne drew in a breath, shook herself, and reached down to pull off her boots. Her sword joined Bog’s staff on the tree root, and then she had her tunic and leggings off and had them both dunked in the water. Most of the mud came off, but they would need a better cleaning than what she could give them here. She laid them both over the root to dry, and then glanced over at Bog. He had graduated to scrubbing water over his chest and arms, and still had his back to her. She took another breath, and waded into the water herself, being careful to keep her wings clear. The mud that coated them was already starting to flake off on its own.

She waded in up to her knees and then crouched down to work water through her hair and soon had nearly forgotten all about Bog standing nearby. It was such a relief to finally get the muck out of her hair and off her face. It had been starting to itch.

Marianne had just finished straining the excess water from her hair when she heard a pained hiss from Bog’s direction. She looked up at him to see him trying to reach over to one of his right wings with his left arm, and then jerking it back with another pain-filled hiss.

“Are you okay?” she asked, watching him.

“I’m fine! I’m—ow!—I’m okay,” he tried to reassure her.

 “Sure you are,” she agreed, her tone letting him know she didn’t believe him. He must have hurt his shoulder when he went down earlier. In which case, he would need help getting that dried mud off his wings. Deciding that as long as he kept his back to her they’d be fine on the modesty front, she flew over to him and put her hands on his shoulders.

Bog nearly leaped out of the water at the contact and very nearly turned around.

“Relax! You need help with this and you know it,” Marianne said, redirecting him before he could fully face her.

“Marianne, really, I can—“

“It’s partially my fault you’re having trouble, so let me help you, at least.”

Bog had his face partially turned in her direction, so she could only partly see the play of emotions over his face as he thought it over. But finally he seemed to agree with her.

“Alright,” he said on a resigned huff. “Just be careful of my shoulder, I’m pretty sure it’s bruised up.”

“Will do,” Marianne said as she began working water across his scales and around the joints where his wings met his spine.

He began melting under her touch sooner than she thought he would.  Even when she worked her way over to his injured left shoulder, the only reaction she received was a deep, contented growl. The vibration reverberated through her fingers. Marianne couldn’t help feeling flattered by the noises he was making, and realized she wanted to hear him make more of them. Then she was working her fingers between his scales, more massaging than washing him at this point, and his head lolled back. She could see a contented smile pulling at his lips.

Somehow, it no longer seemed to matter that she was undressed, or that what they were doing was considered improper. She wanted him to feel good, and she didn’t care what she had to do to see that it happened. And then her fingers were at his spine, and the second they dug in he let out a moan that ended on “Oh, gods, Marianne…”

Marianne had worked her way down his spine, receiving several more moans in response. When she arrived at his waist, however, was when he finally seemed to catch on to what was unfolding between them. Bog reached a hand around to catch hers, halting them in their act. Marianne was jolted back to reality as well.

“Marianne, we shouldn’t,” he rasped out, looking over his shoulder in her direction.

Marianne stared at her hands as if they had somehow been the ones to come up with the idea for this entire brazen act.

“You’re right!” she agreed, her voice going an octave higher. Then she cleared her throat and tried for a more normal tone. “You’re right. A-anyway, you’re clean now.” Before he could say anything else, she let go of his hands and flew back over to her own part of the stream. Once back in the water, she put her back to him and crouched back down to resume washing herself.

She heard him start to wade back out of the stream, but then she focused more intently on scrubbing mud off of her arms and shoulders that she didn’t hear him stop.  But then it was her turn to try reaching around to her wings, only to be stopped by a sharp pain lancing down her back. She really must have fallen harder than she thought. By tomorrow she would have some impressive bruising. For now, though, she needed to get clean.

She realized that she must have made some kind of noise, because then Bog was there kneeling behind her. She looked over her shoulder at him, an argument ready on the tip of her tongue, but he immediately cut her off.

“If my bruises were partially your fault, then yours are partially mine,” he pointed out.

Marianne blinked at him once, and then burst into giggles. “Alright then, but if I start making indecent noises, that is _entirely_ your fault.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, and then his hands were on her back and her giggling almost immediately stopped.

She tried to remember that he was only helping her to get clean, she really did. But then the relieved sigh escaped her lips and her head dropped, her eyes fluttering shut. And his hands were so unbelievably _gentle_. She might have moaned, but she wasn’t terribly aware of it, and truthfully, she didn’t care. When his fingers started working around the joints of her wings, she nearly went boneless and heat gathered low in her belly. Thankfully, Bog didn’t stop, and she didn’t want him to stop.

Bog had finally worked his way down to her waist and was nearly to her hips when she finally made a grab for one of his hands. Rather than stopping him as he had done her, Marianne merely held it in place and looked up at him. When had they moved closer to one another? It didn’t really matter, because then their eyes met. His gorgeous blue eyes that she loved so much were darkened and hooded, and it only took about a second before Marianne spun around in his arms and their lips were crashing together while their arms wrapped around one another.

Then their tongues were in each other’s mouths, and before one of them could push the other one into the water, Bog had hooked an arm around her hips and tore his mouth away from hers long enough to fly them both out of the water. When he landed on the shore, she brought her legs up to wrap around his hips and their mouths met again, her tongue stroking his as he backed her up against the tree root.

One of his hands came up to unwind one of her arms from around his shoulders and interlace the fingers of that hand with his own, pushing it up to brace it over her head. His other hand came up to cup her breast, his thumb stroking over her nipple. Marianne moaned into his mouth at the contact and her free hand began tracing the scales at his shoulders. Then his mouth was leaving hers to leave a trail of kisses down her jaw and to her throat. Her head fell back in response and her breath caught as his tongue flicked out over the pulse point at the base of her throat. A pleasure-filled growl started to vibrate across her skin where it was in contact with his lips, which caused her to cry out her own pleasure and rock her hips against his.

Bog, of course, didn’t stop at her throat. His lips and tongue continued lower and had reached the upper swell of her breasts. Her hand had closed around the back of his neck and she was urging him lower when she thought she heard the tell-tale sound of wings approaching. She decided to ignore it in favor of what Bog’s mouth was doing to her. Said mouth was very close to closing over her nipple when suddenly,

“Hey, Marianne, Bog, are you over here? I thought I’d bring—AAAAAAAAUUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHH OH MY GOD OH MY GOD I’M SO SORRY!!!!!!!!!”

They both looked up in time to see Dawn diving back around the tree, a bundle of what was probably a change of clothes for Marianne clutched to her face.

The two of them stared in shock at the direction Dawn had disappeared in, and then glanced at each other for a second before they both snorted with laughter.

“You might want to go and get her before she flies into something,” Marianne advised him.

Bog sobered up a bit and his cheeks colored. “I…can’t…”

“Why not?”

Bog answered by glancing pointedly down between their bodies, and she was suddenly aware of his reason without even needing to look. It was pressing very insistently into her inner thigh. Marianne could feel her own face warming up and (somewhat reluctantly, she had to admit) unwrapped her legs from his waist.

“You go, uh…take care of that…” Marianne suggested. “I’ll see what Dawn wanted.”

“Right,” Bog agreed, disengaging himself from her and returning to the stream to try and cool down.

It took Marianne a minute before she could stand without balancing herself against the tree root. As soon as she could, she reached for her still-damp tunic and pulled it back on, taking off to follow after Dawn.

It turned out Dawn hadn’t gone far. She wasn’t far from the tree, pacing on the ground and quietly freaking out.

“Dawn? I—“ Marianne tried, but was cut off by Dawn thrusting the bundle at her.

“NO NO DON’T APOLOGIZE IT WAS MY FAULT IN FACT I PROMISE I WON’T TELL DAD I JUST CAME TO BRING YOU THIS AND GRISELDA SAYS DINNER IS ALMOST READY AND _DID I MENTION THAT THAT WAS NOT WHAT I MEANT WHEN I SAID HAVE FUN_?!?!?!?!” Dawn nearly shrieked in one breath at Marianne, who only watched her in stunned silence.

And then Dawn stopped and drew in a deep breath. “Anyway, here.” She thrust the bundle at Marianne one more time, who wordlessly took it from her. She noticed that Dawn’s face was still flushed and she wouldn’t meet her eyes.

 As soon as Marianne had her change of clothes in hand, Dawn turned around and took off back towards the Dark Forest castle without another word. Knowing Dawn, she may have promised not to tell their father about what she had just seen, but that didn’t mean anyone else wasn’t likely to find out. Best to not let them assume more than what was actually going on, then.

Marianne turned around to return to the other side of the tree. She hoped Bog had gotten himself under control, so to speak. For a second she hoped not and actually entertained the idea of lingering anyway. But then Marianne remembered what Dawn had also said earlier about getting a room. After what nearly happened, Bog might actually be amenable to the idea of picking this back up behind closed doors. The thought had her smiling.

 


End file.
